Before they knew it, the battle for Konola City had been raging for an entire day. The suns Mira and Chikasa were both beginning to sink toward the horizon. Konola's City Guard had repelled the enemy's attacks more times than anyone could count. By this point in the war, both attackers and defenders were visibly exhausted. Even professionals with powerful recovery abilities were beginning to falter under the strain on their minds!
The war continued, but the enemies who had begun full of fervor and determination, as well as the City Guard who had gone from trembling in fear to fighting desperately, had all become numb and vacant. Blood had congealed on every survivor's body. The walls and ground were covered in reddish-brown stains reeking heavily of blood. From the burned-out corpses, only faint black smoke remained to speak of the tragedy that had occurred!
At last, as though it had descended from the edge of the sky, the horn signaling retreat sounded. As darkness approached, the enemy decided to withdraw for the moment. Great numbers of soldiers in blood-red armor retreated from beneath the city walls, iron swords still dripping with blood in hand. The surviving City Guard gave a few perfunctory cheers of relief, then slumped dully onto the corpse-strewn walls. The war... had come to a temporary halt!
Punk stood amid a vast expanse of mangled flesh. If ordinary soldiers stood atop piles of corpses, then Punk stood in a soup of minced meat. Yet not a speck of filth stained him. Mage Armor and the Lesser Deflection Field had perfectly prevented blood from splashing onto his body. As he watched the sun Chikasa about to disappear below the horizon, watched the final glow of dusk bid farewell to Konola City's uneven, blood-soaked walls, and watched the soldiers devoutly thank the "mercy" of the gods they worshipped, Punk curled his lip. He kicked away half a mangled head at his feet and slowly descended the city wall along the slick stairs, made treacherous by accumulated blood!
He gently clenched his still-white hand and felt that his strength had improved again. Battle was the best way to put magic into practice. After a full day of "spellcasting practice," personally observing and feeling the effects and power of spells, and practicing the timing and selection of spellcasting close to the battlefield, his experience with magic had improved greatly. Now, Punk was already level 6!
Having truly felt his strength increase, Punk was not the least bit affected by the sorrow brought by the war. Even though Konola City was filled with grieving cries, his mood remained light and pleasant.
However, when Punk passed a shop, even he, who considered himself cold and heartless, felt a trace of... pity rise within him?
No, no, no. The weak were never worthy of pity!
It was a wooden house that had been struck by a huge boulder. On its shattered, scratched signboard, the somewhat childish characters for "Laiketa Barbecue Shop" could still be made out... This was precisely the barbecue restaurant Punk had quite liked.
Now, the shop had been smashed to pieces by the boulder, and the surrounding ground had cracked apart. The blood flowing from gaps between the rubble had already dried, but Punk could still use Divination Spells to learn the identities and conditions of the blood's owners through the blood of these ordinary people...
The result of the spell's investigation... was naturally infuriating... and perfectly logical... Both the barbecue uncle and that little girl with wide eyes, who had said in a childish voice, "Big brother, you're so pretty," had already been deeply "buried" beneath the earth by this enormous boulder...
"Poor little one, rest in peace. My delicious barbecue that I will never eat again, rest in peace." Punk reached out and gently stroked the huge stone covered in dust and blood, then turned and continued toward the square...
Wasn't he also one of the weak? In a war like this, his weak self was likewise... insignificant!
War... really was unpleasant. Especially a war that made him feel powerless!
The City Guard in the square were distributing food in an organized manner. On the Faerun plane, if a city was in a state of war, food and other "strategic supplies" belonging to any commoners had to be handed over to the military for centralized rationing! Of course, professionals generally received priority, followed by nobles, then soldiers, and finally ordinary commoners!
In order to store provisions for what could very likely become a prolonged war, all food was theoretically distributed according to "wartime standards." At least, that was certainly the standard for commoners.
Punk saw crowds of commoners lining up at a porridge stall built from broken wood, each waiting to receive a small bowl of thin gruel made with a little wheat flour and a few scattered wild vegetable leaves. Meanwhile, the professionals were selecting meals inside a temporarily requisitioned shop.
Punk picked up a somewhat greasy tray and cast a cleaning spell on it before taking it to get food.
There were not many kinds of food. The staple consisted of three pieces of wheat bread. It looked as though the baker might have been crushed to death, because the bread was not only crooked and highly "abstract," but the flour had clumped together as well. It was clearly the work of an amateur. The side dishes included smoked meat, ham, and vegetarian dishes such as pickled radishes. Punk chose a serving of decently smoked meat, then discreetly carried his tray back to the blood-drenched city wall, where he ate while standing guard!
For some "inexperienced" professionals, such a bloody and horrifying environment was absolutely not a suitable place to eat. But for a "veteran" like Punk, who had already "fought through countless battles," eating amid piles of corpses was nothing worth making a fuss over!
Punk ignored the ghost-stricken looks from several Apprentice Level professionals. He simply used a relatively intact corpse as a table and began wolfing down his food. Right now, Punk was considering Konola City's advantages and disadvantages. He had no time to care about such trivial details as dining tables.
As a frontier city that primarily exported leather, Konola City had never stored much grain. Under normal circumstances, most of its food was imported and transported by canal from other grain-producing cities. Although some farms grew Wavy Wheat, the yield was generally low. Moreover, during Greenleaf Season, the Wavy Wheat planted in the fields was still nothing more than young sprouts, completely inedible as food. Yet Konola City now had an army of a hundred thousand that needed ample food to sustain its fighting...
"This food will last a week at most. Even if the enemy merely surrounds the city without attacking, the shortage of food alone will be enough to drag Konola City down." Punk was already certain that, so long as the enemy army did not make some blunder of its own, Konola City was bound to lose!
"But what does that have to do with me?" Punk stuffed a moderately salted slice of smoked meat into his mouth. He had already decided that once he had killed fifty professionals foolish enough to provoke him and exchanged spells with Mainesi, he would leave Konola City. He would also leave the Kingdom of Kamos, which was destined for turmoil, and head directly to the neighboring Kingdom of Dilon.
At that thought, Punk raised his head and swept his gaze over the other professionals scattered beneath the city wall. They probably thought much the same as I do. After a day of war, even those "hot-blooded baboons" should have sobered up somewhat! Just as Punk continued calculating the timing and opportunity in his mind, a very familiar voice came from nearby!
"Hello~~ Long time no see, Punk!" A familiar greeting rang out from beside the city wall stairs, carrying its usual irritating, infuriating quality as it obnoxiously interrupted Punk's thoughts!
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